


Sparked Love

by Forgotten_Logic



Category: Transformers, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dubious Alien Biology, I'm sensing a pattern with my tags, M/M, Mech Preg, Smoking, TFP Time Line - ish, everything will EVENTUALLY happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgotten_Logic/pseuds/Forgotten_Logic
Summary: Ratchet and Optimus have been friends for a long time. And sadly, neither is willing to risk that. That is where the idiot they found in an Energon mine comes in, Nightblade. You know, she gives them a little push in the right direction. And ultimately it gets Ratchet sparked!REWRITE - WIP





	1. Chapter 1

So, here’s how the day goes, another mine in hopes of finding the much needed source that all Cybertronians need to survive: Energon. At this moment, three Autobots drove away from the flashing, spirling blue light of a ground bridge gave off. The leader, Optimus, was first, Bumblebee and Arcee followed close behind. Optimus’ servo was readied with his Ion Blaster, the others followed suit, his free servo silently directed the group forward. The bridge closed behind them.

Their engines hummed quietly, not loud enough to quite reverberate around with the noise. Going forward, Optimus with a hushed voice said, “Bumblebee, Arcee, keep on your guard.” His Ion blaster’s power whirled. Bumblebee did a little bleep and Arcee nodded to Optimus’ words. They three separated to search better for their needed fuel.

Their steps were quiet, until all at once, they realized that no other mecha was in the cave. Bumblebee lowered the power on his weapons and started for the glowing blue crystals where he was. Optimus only scanned the area, there was no moving Energon (except for the stuff Bee was moving) nor were there any signs that even the Decepticons were there; his only readings were that of the Energon that radiated pure energy.

Optimus looked up, marveling at the height of the cavern. It was much bigger than that of base. The majority of mines that had Energon were much larger than base so it wasn’t all that surprising. However, it still allowed Optimus to marvel at what Earth had to offer with it’s beauty.

“Optimus,” Arcee pulled him from his thoughts. Ah, only slightly daydreaming - again. “You may want to see this.” Her optics pointed while her arms were full, recently cut crystals. Optimus’ steps were purpossed, coming closer to where Arcee was standing. What he saw made his intakes hitch, Bumblebee had followed around too, to see what Arcee was talking about. He brought his crystals to where Arcee had only just placed them.

It was a human, a girl with dark skin and dark hair. Bumblebee peeped from behind Optimus and bleeped. “A human in an Energon mine?” Optimus looked at Bumblebee with a side long glance before leaning down and gently - as physically possible - picked up that human. “Ratchet’s going to be pleased,” Arcee whispered. Optimus did not make a comment, only opening up a communication channel between base and himself. //Ratchet, bridge us back. We’ve gotten what we came for.// And he gave no indication of him bring the human to base.

Ratchet, who was already standing at attention in case of something going wrong. And with their supplies so low, he had to be ready at a moment's notice. But now, they’d at least have some more Energon in their rations. Hopefully. 

Shaking his head, he grabbed the switch and pulled it down. The blue-green swirling vortex opened up, Arcee walking in first, arms full. Bumblebee was next, his arms were also full. Ratchet watched the bridge with careful optics for Optimus. When the Prime walked in, something relaxed in his chest. But what was that he was holding there? “Ready the medical bay, Ratchet.”

Then Ratchet took a closer look at what he was carrying. A human? Scratch that, another human… “Optimus, we are not a hospital,” he fumed. “You can’t just pick up injured humans wherever you go!” His voice grew in volume speedily, “And another thing-”

And he got lost in those blue optics, oh those optics. It may have only been seconds but it felt like a forever. Ratchet scolded himself and sighed with resignation. “I’ll call June.” Optimus nodded, his optics downcasted on the human in his servo. “Arcee found her in the mine. What human would willingly place themselves in danger?”

“I can think of one.”

Optimus raised a brow, a calmness about his frame. Ratchet, sighed quietly and took the girl from the black servo. Walking his way into the medbay, placing down the little body on a metal make-shift berth.

And here comes the downside of having Optimus be sweet and take humans in, Ratchet doesn’t have the first idea what to do with. He called June and waited for her to arrive, she at least was a nurse and a whole lot more prepared to deal with humans. Ratchet on the other hand… At least at the moment he couldn’t curse his Cybertronian pride and asked for help, that much could be said.

At least he would only have to deal with this one, the children were at school. A plus for Ratchet, they couldn’t get under his peds. That also meant that the rest of the ‘bots were there. The three that went for the mine where the only ones who left for the day, and they got what was needed. 

He has to stop, this is still a child. Only because she brought in and he doesn’t like humans more than he has to, he has to find a stopping point. She’s… hurt. Somehow. Then he thought about the Energon. It’s dangerous to humans, Fowler and Rafael found out through worse circumstances. Though, Rafael had an encounter with Dark Energon, something all the more deadly. 

“Ratchet, June’s here,” Bulkhead poked around the corner, he merely waved him off. He saw the girl that was on the berth, he hid his own surprise fairly well, his optics betrayed him. Ratchet heard the car come to stop after entering the silo and door un locking and closing swiftly. Miss June walked over with a speed to her step that Ratchet rarely saw come from her, even with a medical kit in her arms. Lowering his hand, June jumped on without any words exchanged. Once at level with the berth, she jumped off, he body visible and momentarily froze at the sight. “Do you know what happened to her?” Her voice serious that held the worry she tried to hide.

Ratchet shrugged. “All that I do know is that Optimus brought her from the Energon mine they just came from.” June did not waver in her actions, checking vitals. “Then it could have been exposure to the Energon then,” her tone was quiet, like she was only half thinking on her words. 

“That is what I had thought as well.” June did not respond, taking the heart rate from the wrist and then the neck. She sighed. “She’s not dead, that much I can say,” she said half nodding to herself. Ratchet looked at her and back to the girl. “Do what you can… please,” he added the please as an afterthought. He sighed again.

Ratchet respected and loved Optimus, but he was too nice to humans. They put the mecha on base in danger, MECH a clear example, stealing and remaking Optimus’ basic frame into Nemesis Prime as Miko so cleverly named it. He wouldn’t kill a human, let alone harm one, on purpose or not. June already got angry with him the first time and he made good on his promise, most of the time. 

But children were different; they have saved the ‘bots on base with all the little things that they could do. Raf with his coding and hacking and decoding skills came in handy. Jack, going back to Cybertron to retrieve the Prime’s memories after Optimus poured out the power of Matrix into Unicron. That won one battle and began another. Now with Miko? He’d have to think on it. 

Ratchet wouldn’t be useful to help June, he thought, so instead he turned around and left for the main corridor. He didn’t dare look back at the lifeless, motionless human on that berth. And instead put his servos to work, perhaps to find another mine to scout out later.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a short while, June had stayed to keep an eye on the girl. She didn’t look like a child, probably a whole head taller than Jack if Ratchet thought about it. Ratchet had his thoughts torn away from his work as June called out “She’s waking up.” This caused Optimus and Ratchet to walk back up to the berth, others come from their places too. 

Her eyes fluttered to an open, her arm shielded her face from the bright lights above her head. Then her body gave sudden jerk, quick fluid motion, nearly knocking June over. Her body shook a little, like there was too much adrenaline going through her veins. Dark purple eyes, something that Ratchet found unsettling, it reminded him of Megatron’s burning purple optics. But something in her eyes showed anger, fear.

This girl did something that no one thought possible. Her arms changed from a chocolate brown skin to silver, metallic guns. Eyes and guns blazing, guns aimed simultaneously at Ratchet and Optimus. This startled Ratchet but Optimus held to his calm stance.

“Be calm human. We are not here to harm you,” his voice calm still, her weapons did not waver. The fire in her eyes seemed to burn brighter, “I am no human!” Everyone seemed to exchange glances, Optimus keeping a steady optic on this girl. She blinked a couple times, the room still, June hadn’t even moved. She then realized who she was in the presence of. “Orion Pax?” her voice and weapons wavered this time. Ratchet pointed his optics at Optimus in confusion. Arcee was puzzled as to how this human - not human - knew their leader, they all were.

Optimus tentatively stepped forward. “I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots,” his voice continued to be calm. “However, yes, I was once known as Orion Pax.”

Her body shrunk back, away from the rest of the group. Her eyes growing dark, fearful. She had spoken to a Prime without respect, without dignity, and best of all, she had pointed her guns at him. Body freezing, she put her guns away quickly. She gave a pained yelp as she… transformed? She had a really compact frame since she was now higher than Bumblebee. She knelt on the ground, optics down cast. “My Prime, I’ve spoken out of line. Forgive me.” One arm covered her knee, however, no skin showed. Only metal.

June, still on the berth, stood and spoke quietly, asking “What’s your name?” The once girl turned mecha tensed, like she’d been struck. She sighed and responded, “Nightblade. A former gladiator of the Pits of Kaon.” Arcee raised a brow and crossed her arms across her chassis. 

Ratchet, being the medical mind that he was, he couldn’t help himself from asking one question in particular. “Why or more preciously how did you take the form of a human?” His frame showed boredom however his optics showed genuine curiosity. Nightblade slowly rose from her state, enough to look the medic square in the optics. There was no malice in her optics, only a quiet hurt. “I’d rather not say…” She whispered. “I did what I needed to, when the human populace increased so quick, I needed to do something to keep… hidden.” Nightblade turned her head away for a moment. “I knew it was stupid however, what did I have to lose? I already let the dark things take over my mind, thinking that everyone was dead… because of the war,” voice still quiet.

“The war still plagues us,” Optimus’ low rumble brought her back, looking back towards him. There was no anger towards her that he showed. “But nevertheless, we are here.” 

Ratchet only half listened to the conversation that the two had started up. The other ‘bots left them to it as well, June also left to go home. It did not really concern them really. But now Ratchet was thinking back, the name was familiar. He must have met her or heard of her at least once back on Cybertron. She was nothing important, he thought. Then why was the name familiar?

And even now, how’d she manage to take a human form? Would that make her cyber-organic or did she only manage to change how her skin felt to be less metallic? Those questions Ratchet may as well ponder until later. Or maybe it was nothing too important to consider?

He had started to listen in on Optimus’ conversation again. “Nightblade,” he breathed in as he spoke. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. However, I have one condition,” Ratchet did not turn around to see how Nightblade was looking at Optimus. He didn’t much care for her. Wait, was he getting jealous? Over what that… femme? Over Optimus talking to her…? Wait. “State it, sir.” 

“Don’t cause too much trouble,” there was a smirk to his tone. Then Ratchet turned around. How could he allow this… mecha to stay on base? Mere minutes ago she was a human and now? What’s gone through his head? Optimus saw Ratchet’s glare, half nodding to himself. “This is Ratchet, our medical officer. I’m sure you will be able to learn a thing or two from him.” Internally, Ratchet was doing a very good job at hiding his growing frustration. 

She nodded at him and he walked away, leaving the two. Ratchet looked at this femme, tall, silver frame with a round head. The purple optics still and most likely for awhile will unsettle him. She reached behind her head, in embarrassment perhaps, she did point a gun at him. “Hey.” That’s a lovely way to start a conversation, so formal, Ratchet thought sarcastically. “Hey?”

“I want to say sorry for aiming at you… force of habit, really.” She moved her servos in front of her, one tapping idly at her thigh. Ratchet shrugged. “You’re far from the first to take aim at me,” he turned around and started walking over to the counter where the monitors were. “And I’m sure you’re not going to be the last.”

“I uh, guess that’s true.” She was trying to be at least sociable with the base medic. 

“I’ve gotta ask, why in Primus’ name did you do… this,” had turned back, vaguely gesturing to her frame. “Why would you do that to yourself?” His frame did a visual shudder, “It’s unnatural.”

Her optics glowed with a fire, a rage that Ratchet had only really ever seen in Megatron. Nightblade made no motion to attack, her optics certainly said otherwise. “You honestly want to know why?” She voiced a low growl, a guttural sound. “I wanted to survive being on this wretched planet without a proper means to get Energon. It’s not like I wanted to be here or do this!” Her servos clenched, something sounded like it snapped. “I wanted to be dead all because most everything I cared for is dead. Do you know what it’s like to go on thinking that your species was killed off by one another?” Her volume gradually fell apart, the bright fire in her optics only seemed to give off smoke of defeat. 

“Besides, what’s it really matter how I’ve changed?” It was a whimper, sad and remorseful. Ratchet now wasn’t so sure where to stand in the matter of Nightblade. She was odd… and upset. But was she upset about not dying or being upset that she was found and that she had taken a human as form? She took a deep breath in, releasing her clenched fists. “Look, I get if you don’t trust me or the actions I’ve taken. I respect that…” She trailed off momentarily. 

“Least one mecha respects me then,” he grumbled. Something in him just wanted to ease the tension. She gave a weak smile. “But, to another point, when was the last time you had any Energon? You did take that form to…?” His voice faded, waiting for Nightblade to pick up the slack. “To be able to, uh, eat. Organic fuel that is. And I… I don’t really remember. Pings in my HUD haven’t really been alerting me when I’m running on fumes.” She shrugged to her last comment. Ratchet looked at her with concern and with equal doses confusion. “Nothing in your memory banks? Data files?”

“No. Most of the stuff from recent memory is been scrubbed.” Scrubbed? Ratchet thought, his confusion turned to suspicion. And he gave her a look, one that silently said ‘the Pit have you been doing?’ She must not have been able to read that… 

Nightblade just looked at him, optics softening. “Well, I don’t really know why that could be but if you wanna have a look, go right on ahead. I’m wondering too.” Her idle tapping at her thigh stopped, one servo going to behind her head and pulling thick wire from the base. She looked at it a moment, as if to meet some sort of inspection. Ratchet half thought of just plugging in and seeing what caused the ‘scrubbed’ memories but thought better of it. What if she was using that as some tactic to get his firewalls down and take him out that way? After all, she could still be a Decepticon spy! Though, she bore no insignia… and she did say that she thought that their species was dead… so, that leaves some questions and answers to unasked questions. 

He only waved his servo. “We can do that soon. Why not have at least some Energon? Or do you prefer this… organic fuel?” She shrugged, and then she laughed. “Don’t waste your fuel on me.” Ratchet went over and grabbed a cube and poured some contents in two glasses. “No, I don’t think I got my point across. Get some Energon in you,” he said shoving the glass into her servo that wasn’t playing with the wire. NIghtblade dropped it and it zipped back into its spot. “Yes, doctor.” She proceeded to sip at the liquid. Blue, like the majority of medium grade was, but the color was lackluster. It must have been filtered more rigorously to make more.

And Nightblade’s presence wasn’t exactly helping the matter at base. Just another mouth to feed. And so far, a liability.

There was a part of her that wanted to just to be useful, but right now, she’d have to get used to this new arrangement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd I do?


	3. Chapter 3

The presence of Nightblade in base had been just short of a day. The children came school, but there was no new mecha around. Optimus took her out to show her around and make she understood Earth’s rules. Or at least the rules in Jasper, Nevada. By the time that they had returned, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Arcee had already taken the children home. 

It wasn’t so late but the next day was also a school day, and quite frankly, Ratchet wanted some kind of quiet on base. Nightblade, though new and he still found himself distrustful of her, was nearly silent all the time. Ratchet wasn’t so bothered by this, but he still had a thought that she should make herself useful.

Optimus, to Ratchet’s bewilderment, still allowed her to stay. He’s completely fine with her being on base which makes Ratchet a little less up on his guard. But, as much as Ratchet hates to think like this, Optimus has been wrong before. However, Ratchet can’t be too upset about the whole endeavour, Optimus is the only real leader that they’ve had that was not driven by an insatiable thirst for power and control, or the entire destruction or devastation of an entire race! He’s a great leader, Ratchet is only a realist. He respects him but sometimes it would be great if Optimus knew that it wasn’t only respect this medic had for him.

At the moment, Ratchet used the mostly human technology to search for another Energon source, perhaps catch sight of a Decepticon patrol. Even with them finding that one mine that is closer to base, the arrival of Nightblade and the Decepticons still on the move, they’re going to need every last drop that they can afford. And if they don’t, each time the Decepticons get mine, their power would only increase. Along with the danger level.

“Ratchet!” Smokescreen. He wasn’t a quiet one, not in the slightest. “Have you seen the new mech?” The white sportster peeked around the medbay doors, an annoyed groan escaped the CMO’s jaw. “I see everyone. What’s it matter?” Ratchet did not hold back his snap, Smokescreen flinch but that was hardly a surprise. Ratchet was done hearing about Nightblade already, not even a week in, barely a day! Smokescreen straightened. “I wanted to show her some of my moves, you know! Well, if ya know what I mean,” the last sentence was a grumble, though he still carried a smirk.

“I may be old but I’m deaf Smokescreen.” Smokescreen knew how to pick terrible battles. Ratchet looked behind him, speak of the fragging devil, there she was. When she saw that he was looking passed the white sporty, she put a digit to her smirking mouth. One of her blades was out, Ratchet quirked an optic-ridge. With one swift motion, the blade was close to his neck cabling, he flinched back into her slightly. “Smokescreen is it?” He nodded. “I don’t believe you’re ready to see my moves. Why would you think you’re ready to show me yours?” Her voice low, but there wasn’t a sound of malice in her tone. She pulled back her blade with a gentle laugh. “You’re still young. You do not have moves.” Nightblade left without saying anything else, though Ratchet could hear the thin smile form on her lips.

Smokescreen looked majorly embarrassed and he had lost that smirk. Ratchet stole it. “Well, now you know where she is.” The white sportster slunked out quickly, avoiding any optic contact. 

Nightblade walked through base, each step quiet and sure. Her gaze travelling to the tunnel that she assumed that lead outside (because when Optimus and her had gone out for the ‘drive’, they went through a bridge). But right now, she was lost for what to do next. The shadow that covered her drew back her attention. “Nightblade,” the same low voice rumbled. “What are you doing?” She shrugged, still in her Cybertronian form. Part of her wanted to respond smartly, but another part told her to think better of it. 

“You can go when you want, just let Ratchet or I know.” He half nodded to himself and half to her, as if going through a short list of things that had to be done. Nightblade blinked her purple optics, still something that even Optimus had to get used to. “And I would go out through there, right?” She pointed with her round head. He nodded again. “Then, with your permission, I would like to go and get a less cliché alternative mode.” Her silver frame stood at attention, waiting for some answer. Optimus only gave a solemn nod before turning back to the computer screens on the far side of base.

With that Nightblade took her current alt. Mode and started her way out, but not before a certain speedster sauntered his way up to her. “Where you going?” He asked as if he wasn’t in the room with Optimus and Nightblade, nevertheless, he asked. Nightblade, did not stop, knowing that he could keep up the pace with her small frame. She merely shrugged. “I’m going out for as change of scenery.” She cocked her head towards him. “Were you not in the same room and Optimus and I? We covered this,” she said with a stroke subtle laughter. Smokescreen shrugged with a small smile on his derma, and asked another question. “Wanna go for a drive?” Hopefulness in his voice, something that made Nightblade edge out a laugh. Maybe at the proposition or at him, neither was really sure.

“Nah, not right now. Smokescreen was it?” He nodded, his little smile faded a little. “How about when I get back sometime, we go for a drive. Dealio?” A large smile reappeared on his derma, optics crinkled at the corners. “Yeah! Okay.” And with that she waved him off and made her way to town, she needed to get a ride of her own. Again. As she left, she could have sworn to have heard little profanities come from behind her. She ignored it.

It didn’t take too long for her to make it to town being that she was running most of the way there. Jasper wasn’t a huge town, so there may not be too much option for her here. Not right now. She just had to find her way around again, it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been in this little town and it won’t be the last time either. 

She took her time, continuing with her running pace, looking at passing and stationary vehicles. Nightblade passed a little joint called KO Burger, she thought it was an odd name. Reminded her of a red medic from Kaon. She never took him seriously, he was always preoccupied with his need for a shiny finish.

After some time, maybe a half hour, she passed the local hospital. There were more trucks than she was expecting and a few smaller cars. One caught her optic, it may have been an ecodiesel, it was still a handsome truck. Nightblade simply opened up her scanner, thin light coming from her optics as the specs of the frame came to her. Just like that she was in a new frame, she wasted no time either to use those specs. 

Silver frame, she had found herself on the grass outside of the hospital. Oops. She should have paid more attention but it was too late now to care. Giving her engines a testing roll, it was a good feeling to have. With this, she left. It was a nice feeling to have something fresh adorn her once fleshy appearance, something that no one would recognise her for.

She gave her engines another testing push, trying not to disturb the grass that she had changed on. Oopsy. Once on the road, she was startled to hear the nearly non-existent Communication channel open up. A tired voice on the other end told her who it was, “Nightblade?” Ratchet, seemed to wait patiently on the other end. “Yes, Ratchet.” There was no question, only a response. She waited at a light, when it turned green on her side, one red car sped passed. Nightblade sighed and turned the opposite of the direction of that speedster, and headed towards base as a leisurely pace.

“This is just a signal test,” he said with a hum. She accelerated down the straight line of concrete, passing KO burger again, which had a full parking lot. “What are you doing?” She would have shrugged but, can’t really do that in vehicle mode, and took the road that lead out of town. “I’m heading back. I did what I needed to,” she said just over the sound of her engines. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, give or take 7.” She cut the line.

Ratchet’s barely hidden annoyance shown through on base. The children had come and gone since Nightblade had left, so they may have only gotten a short leg of the information. He did not bother to hide his irritations about this new mecha on base. She wasn’t useful! But if Optimus trusted her, perhaps he could try to get to know her too. But if she so much as does something that he doesn’t like, he has no qualms with reformatting her into something that is always useful. A trash compactor perhaps?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! HOW ARE ALL OF YOU?  
> ;3


	4. Chapter 4

The sun had sunk just under the horizon when the silver femme drove back onto base. The younger mecha on base had a thought that she wouldn’t return. She did, much to Ratchet’s disapproval, but he kept quiet for the most part. With the children at home, and Bumblebee and Arcee out for a drive, that left Bulkhead, Smokescreen, Ratchet, and Optimus on base. And now her too. She stayed quiet, lowering the rumble of her engines. After making her way in, she jumped up to her bipedal mode with a smooth motion. First Nightblade had tires as her peds, she gave a curious look, moving them again. They ended up on the back of her calf, she gave a quiet laugh.

Walking with as light a thump her peds could make, finding Ratchet at the control module and Optimus not far from him. She noted how Optimus would ever do slightly turn his head towards the white and orange mech. Ratchet either did not care or was oblivious to the slight actions, Nightblade figured the latter.

What was unexpected as she continued forward for a set of servos to run across her doors, they instinctively pulled close to her frame. She turned with speed and nearly knocked down the invader: Smokescreen. “Uh, what are you doing?” There wasn't a growl, not yet, to imitate from her, only a steady purple optic glare. “Getting a little handsie, don't you think?” She took a step back, Smokescreen shrugged.

“Couldn't help it,” he said simply. “I wanted to see if they were real.” Nightblade lifted a brow, her own servo rested on the crest of her hip. “They're real, I assure you. But I want you to understand this,” she leaned in, lowering herself by a few feet to meet his level. “Touch me again, I hope you intend to kill me.” Optimus turned from the module, optics drawn tight. “Nightblade.” His first admonition. Ratchet had turned his head to see how this would turn out, watching critically.

“Yes sir, I remember your warning. Do not cause too much trouble,” she said with a wink. Ratchet did not stop himself from rolling his optics and letting loose a low growl. Neither paid any mind. “Plus I didn't mean anything by it! You sir, know I don't like being touched; especially from behind.” She chuckled nervously, turning her frame slightly to see the white sporty. Ratchet looked back towards the screen, though his interest was closer attuned with what Optimus was going to say next. Or do next. 

“We all have our reasons,” he said blandly. “Smokescreen,” He stared directly at the Prime, a mild nervousness poked through his field. “If you're going to touch her, ask first. And you,” he spoke directly to Nightblade. “Say you're sorry for having your blades against his neck.” She gave a small laugh, and faced Smokescreen. “I had no ill intent. My apologies that it seemed as though I did.” it did not sound insincere, however Ratchet was not having a good time believing her. Even Optimus hated to admit it, and he had known this femme early in his life.

Back as an enforcer, before going to the Iacon Hall of Records, he arrested her a time or few. They were both young but she was very stupid, probably still stupid. But now he wasn’t so sure who she was anymore, a lot of things happened since he saw her last. To both of them.

Smokescreen nodded with quiet affirmation. “Yeah, it’s fine. I think I’m going to head off to bed.” Without a glance to anyone else, he walked out. It was quiet a moment before Optimus sighed and looked back at the module, doing what he usually does. Ratchet did not like her one bit, but he thought since she was going to stay, he may as well get used to her. Even if he didn’t trust her. 

There was a quiet tink and thump as she sat on the ground, leaning against the wall for support. Optimus look gave a sidelong peek over his shoulder but went right on back to staring back at the monitor. Ratchet actually turned around, brows quirked, optics holding a curious gleam. “What are you doing?”

The silver femme raised her head, a soft purple glare. “I don't know. Maybe try and catch some Zs,” tone casual, like that of child. Though she was far from being a youngling, Nightblade could still banter a more relaxed demeanor. Ratchet maintained his curiosity, though now it was with some annoyance, and it showed as he stood akimbo in front of the monitor. “You know we have berths, right?” He allowed his annoyance to show through. She shook her head, but not because she didn't know – she did, it was a hidden laugher she held in. “Nah sir, I know there are berths. I'm just an odd bird; I enjoy the floor, it's cool.” She tapped at the floor with a digit. 

“Ratchet, she's a freak, simply put,” a crinkle to his optics, like he thought about maybe laughing but didn't. He looked at Optimus with surprise, though he found himself smiling slightly. He quickly straightened his face and turned back around. No, nothing was bothering him no… 

“OP, that’s a lovely term of endearment,” Nightblade quietly chuckled, leaning fully against the wall with her legs crossed. Ratchet couldn’t help but look over at Optimus, catching him roll his optics at the remark. “If I do recall, Nightblade, I asked you not to call me that,” he said while typing away at the module. Ratchet was kind of confused, though at this point, though did it really matter? His optics were barely staying in focus but sadly enough to say he was used to being drained. With the Energon supply on base at an alltimelow, and with another mecha on base that would require it, he may as well get used to it. 

“Fine. I won’t call you OP.” From then on, base was near silent. It was, even though at first it was less than comfortable for Ratchet, it fell to the comfortable sounds of gentle beeps and taps from either Optimus or himself. He almost forgot that she was in there after a while. Ratchet stayed until Optimus, oh him, touched his shoulder. “You should get some recharge, old friend,” the low reverberations of his voice near always made Ratchet melt. Even now. He didn’t really respond though, just walking hazily off and away to his sleeping quarters. After his door closed, Optimus sighed.

“You’re such a hypocrite.” It actually startled him, only because he thought that Nightblade was asleep. He caught himself. “Excuse me?” She snickered. “You heard me. Ratchet isn’t the only sleep deprived mecha on base.” He turned his head away from her a moment, looking off towards the hallway. She wasn’t wrong, recharge had been coming in shorter intervals recently and any trained medic could see the strain. Unless the only _professionally trained medic_ was also in the same boat with the others… However, Optimus did not have much option to argue.

Nightblade had already gotten up and began to usher him towards the hallway. “I can do the scanning for you. You know I can. Now, go get some recharge yourself, okay?” He didn’t really reply again, only continued to walk down the hall. He hated to admit it, but the urge to recharge was insatiable. If he managed to stay awake, that would be a surprise. But if he managed to get some decent rest that would just short of a miracle. 

She stood there a moment, watching as he walked with heavy thumps of his peds. Once he was in his room with the door closed, she made he way to the monitor. It wasn’t too long after that did Bumblebee and Arcee return. It was not all that late in the evening, however even they looked drained. 

Arcee noticed that the new femme was already on the monitor, something told her that something was wrong. Always, it never mattered, Optimus or Ratchet were always there. This femme had only just been on base just short of two days and was already on monitor duty? Highly suspicious. She almost got to inquire as to why she was there but the two were greeted calmly. “Hello. Good drive?”

Bumblebee whirled a soft “Yes,” and walked to his room, not too bothered by the femme. Or maybe it didn’t quite register to him? Arcee however, he wits were still about her. “Does Optimus know you’re on there?” The silver femme did not quite scoff at her, however she did find it amusing. Though there was a part of her that still understood why there wasn’t a whole lot of trust for her yet. For all they knew, she could be a Decepticon spy.

Nightblade did not pay any mind to the almost harsh tone the two-wheeler carried, and simply answered. “He does,” response flat, she turned her body, showing what was on the screen. She’d only navigated one more pane different than what Optimus had left. One was open for the northern hemisphere, southern hemisphere, and one more circling around the stratosphere, just in case something come flying into Terran air space. It would be better if it were the exosphere however the base did not have so much power to run that scan constantly. The stratosphere would have to do. Arcee calmly looked towards the screen, seeing this and shrugged. If Optimus was okay with it, with her, then she’d be okay too. 

The two-wheeler’s frame grew lax, and slumped a little. “You should get some recharge,” Nightblade said softly, turning back to the monitors. Arcee rolled her optics and coughed a laugh. “You’re not my carrier.”

“Maybe not yours…” Arcee didn’t hear that part but moved did move away towards the hallway. She didn’t utter another word, or one that Nightblade could make out. Either way, this evening would still be just as silent as it has been for the longest of times for her. That allowed her mind to take over. She knew that Ratchet didn’t much care for her presence, that much she could guess. Even being half blind did not stop her from seeing that, though he did have a good reason to not trust, certainly not yet. She’d only just come to base and even then, it wasn’t on her own accord. Picked up and brought onto base is more closely aligned with the truth of the matter. 

That didn’t bother her, practically none of his actions did. Though she didn’t much trust him either, what else is to be expected? But, she knew she could trust Optimus and since he trusted Ratchet that was more than enough reassurance on the matter. Even if in the past he was naive with whom he chose to hang around, he was older… and wiser. But a mech all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hella tired and this junk is what came out of it. I've been rlly lazy and life is just being a mess. Beep. I hope tht this was enjoyable. 
> 
> LOL I need a beta in the worst kind of way... X3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLEIP end me plz

Optimus laid upon his berth, awake but optics still closed. It was more recharge than he anticipated but he could still feel the drag of sleeplessness linger in his processor. He checked his chronometer, finding it still early in the morning; 3:00 AM. He sighed. Opening his optics, he slowly lifted his frame, struts popping back into place, causing a gentle ache in his back. 

Swinging his legs over the edge, Optimus rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his optics. After a moment of holding that position he straightened himself and firmly planted his peds on the ground. His hydraulics hissed. It took a second for him to get to the door, being pitch black with only the dim light from his optics was all the light he had. The door quietly opened and he left for the main area. It closed behind him. 

His steps were quiet, which even surprised him. When his optics looked out and into the main area of base, he saw Ratchet and Nightblade. Ratchet faced away from him while Nightblade only kind of facing him, she’d only notice him if it weren’t for that one bad optic, he didn’t know that though. They were talking calmly, quietly. He couldn’t make out anything really well, all he heard was a quiet mess of words that did not make sense together, so he watched. After a moment, she walked up to him and patted his shoulder, then walking towards the tunnel. Apparently leaving.

From there, Optimus moved out of the hall way. Ratchet did not seem to notice him even when he was right behind him. “Good morning, Ratchet,” he said quietly, causing the medic to jump. He really didn't hear Optimus to elicit such a response. 

“Optimus! Must you be so quiet?” After the squeak for a start, it lowered into a growl. Not that it was harsh growl, it was more of something more akinned to embarrassment. He always growled when he was embarrassed. There was the same crinkle to his optics as before, like silent laughter. “Sorry for startling you.”

Ratchet sighed, looking at Optimus though not directly into those beautiful blue optics. “Anyway, good morning.” A small smile formed on his face, Optimus allowed himself the same justice. “How… How was your recharge?” His voice sounded forced, stressed, even for Ratchet. It was enough to be caught by Optimus, who rose his brow in silent inquiry. “It was enough, though more than anticipated.” He half nodded to himself and the other to Ratchet. 

“And yours, old friend?” He jumped a bit as he grabbed two cubes from the side of the wall. It wasn’t because he was startled by the action, far from! Though he didn’t exactly wish to say why he did. When he turned back around and faced the tall, red, gorgeous mech, Ratchet caught himself staring. So as to not cause any more attention to that, he handed the cube to his Prime, and replied with “It could’ve been better.” Optimus thanked him and sipped at his own, watching, curiously waiting for when Ratchet would do the same to him own. 

And when he didn’t, Optimus tried his hand at casual conversation, as friends vice CMO and Prime. It’s not like anyone else was awake so in a sense, they were alone. “So,” he simply began, there was an imposing pressure in the room. His optics were trained on his cube. “How have you and Nightblade getting along?” That, even now, was one of the last things he wanted to talk about. Though the two were seemingly having a civil conversation prior to Optimus coming into the room, they still didn’t see eye to eye. At the moment, his optics were still on his cube.

“Fine. Just fine.” His servos tightened around the cube, that much Optimus noted. He didn’t want to pry but something was bothering Ratchet and it started and ended - as it would seem - with Nightblade. Optimus had hoped that she would have listened to his admonishment about not starting trouble, or at least too much, however if this is to become a common emotion for Ratchet… then perhaps it’s best that she left. But he has known them both for a long time, and did not wish to lose one friend for the other. And with the war, everyone for the Autobot cause was worth the risk, even the humans they’d come to know. 

Optimus took a tentative step forward, placing his servo on Ratchet’s shoulder, in a silent plea. “Are you sure?” His voice low, a quiet edge of worry showed through; Ratchet tried to ignore it. His optics dimmed, the blue hue seemed to be clouded. Optimus noticed that there was still a lingering green that lined the outer part of Ratchet’s optics, reminiscent of when he had tested the Synth-En on himself. It was dangerous, stupid even. And Optimus was terrified of losing him that way, losing him in general. 

Before Ratchet did that, he had considered telling him that he liked him in more than platonically, but then there were complications. And even now, he wasn’t exactly sure if he couldtell him. Or what he would even say! What could he say? 

He didn’t get to think on that, when he caught himself staring at the orange mech in question. Optics dragging from the floor back up to the top of his chevron, mapping out the details. They’ve both been doing that. Ratchet shook his head, regaining his attention to the last question, though he didn’t want to answer, he did. “Yes. I’m absolutely sure.” Optimus did not quite believe that however, did not push. He vented deeply. “It’s still early and has been quiet thus far, I think I’ll go for a drive,” his voice rumbled. Optimus didn’t think too much on the matter of leaving, and Ratchet didn’t relay a reply. If anything, while he’s out, he can have Nightblade tell him what she’s been doing to cause such a ruckus. There was a much stronger chance that she was the one causing it, but assumptions always got everyone in trouble some time. And he never liked to assume, however, even Ratchet wasn’t this hostile towards the children. Though those are children and not an ancient femme who showed up out of nowhere.

He slowly walked towards the tunnel, leaving, but not without looking back. Ratchet had his head forced forward, towards the console. Something inside him hurt, he didn’t know how to place it, not yet at least. He gave the command to his t-cog, within a moments he left base. 

Optimus then just drove a few minutes, just allowing his mind to go nearly blank. Until he started to think again, though this time about what the heck is starting to happen on base. Why are his two closest friends being less than good to each other? Why is everyone being glitchy? Well not everyone at least, it seemed to only be those two. 

To find out the truth - or at the very least - half of the story, he powered on his comm system and found Nightblade’s frequency. There was a moment as he waiting that there was only static, not a good sign. Before he could cut the link, the static faded. //Yes, Optimus?\\\ Even she sounded annoyed. He quietly hummed, intrigued still as to why this was happening. //Nightblade, where are you?\\\ 

//A couple of miles from base. In the mine y’all found me in,\\\ she sounded less annoyed with the reply. Though that may have been because the signal was getting fuzzy, Optimus thought it was because she was in a cave. He turned off the road, his cab rocking back and forth as his tired came off the concrete to dirt. //I need to talk to you.\\\

//Roger roger man.\\\ With that he concentrated on the dirt, avoiding anything that moved or anything that could disturb the ride. But, if anyone was paying attention to a large red semi zooming through something of a desert, it would be a weird day. For everyone involved. 

After only a short few minutes, the sun still sunken below the horizon, he was there. He kept in mode, just in case there happened to be a human nearby for some reason. That was, of course, how they came to find Nightblade, though that was an interesting occurrence all its own. 

Another set of lights pointed at him and his focus was drawn out to his surroundings. The light dimmed, and he could see that it was coming from that femme. Optimus came up slowly and gracefully came to his bi-bedal mode, coming face to face with practically a wall of smoke, which caused him to cough. 

“Could you have smoked anymore Night?” Nightblade didn’t seem to be phased by his remark, puffing at the cigar she had nestled between her lips. Even in the dim light, he could see her shrug. “Well, would you prefer me to smoke on base? I’d rather let all this out here,” she said as she drew in a long vent, causing the wrap to be burned back.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t smoke again,” he chastised, looking her square in the optics. A dull purple poked through as she closed them. She groaned. “That is practically ancient history Ori-Optimus. Besides,” she took it away from her lips, smoke coming off in a dancing and swirling matter in the light. “You can’t expect me to be sober all the time.” She tapped off the ash beside her, it still held a faint glow of red, only to put it back between her lips. 

Optimus shook his head, a hand coming to rub at the side of a finial. “You’re hopeless.” He knew that, she knew that. That’s why she smoked, and he knew she wasn’t going to pay him any mind about being told that it’s bad to smoke. She’s heard it before. It was all just old hat and it had zero meaning to her now. Night looked at him, optics narrowed, tasting the bitter burn roll down her throat with each sucked breath. It was all old news. 

“You know the saying. There’s no hope for the weary spark,” with a rueful tone, she tapped again, ash falling away. “Either way, what do you need to talk about? I certainly hope it isn’t anymore of ‘smoking is bad’ mantra.” Optimus strode up to her, closer, snorting when more smoke come into his vents. He exhaled in something of a relaxed matter, maybe something of resignment, Nightblade assumed. 

“You’ve been on base for a few days, and I’ve noticed that Ratchet’s been on edge,” he paused, waiting to see her reaction. There wasn’t one, at first. “I don’t blame him.” Optimus nodded to her comment. “And you know I said don’t make trouble-”

“I haven’t done nothing Optimus. I’ve tried to stay out of his way, just like what I would like if I was certified. Oh and, by the way, you said don’t make too much trouble,” she interrupted, the cigar away from her lips, the light fading. “Did you think I’d intentionally to try to rile him up?” Her optics traced him quizzically. Though in the way she had said it, it did sound like an accusation was really more an innocent question.

He came closer to the wall, had half a thought of just leaning against it but thought against it. “Intentionally no, I don’t. However, he… just doesn’t like you,” his tone flat. His optics showed a sort of turmoil. Optimus wanted both of his friends to get along! He knew he could persuade Nightblade to go with whatever had, though he wasn’t sure he could have Ratchet go along with a random plan such as this. 

She snerked, taking her cigar away again though now to stop it out. “You think I hadn’t noticed? I’m not blind. Actually scratch that,” the last part wasn’t loud enough for him to understand. And he gave her a funny look. “Dude. Stop. Come on, whatever you think will work for Ratchet to in the least not despise my company is greatly appreciated. You’ve known him longer than I have, right?” She didn’t look him in the optic, just dug into her subspace on the back of her hip for surprise! Another cigar. 

“He will warm up to you. He did with Smokescreen.” It was her turn to give him a curious look. He obliged. “He was aboard a Deception ship when he came to Earth. Others on base assumed he was a spy.”

“You see? That actually explains why Ratchet could think that.” She sighed quietly, lighting the cigar. 

“I saw you two talking this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“It was nothing. I just told him where I studied and a couple of things that I got to study,” her voice light, like her recollection was a good one. Optimus still wasn’t sure. “Are you sure you didn’t say something that would set him off?”

“Orion, damnit! I messed your name up again. Shoot. No, I didn’t do or say anything that would set him off. I don’t think so anyway.” Nightblade took the cigar out a moment, tapping her thigh. “Though, he did ask how I knew you.” His blue optics brighten, staring at her intently. “And you said?”

“All I said is that we go ‘way back, and he said the same of himself.” Shrugging, she plopped the cigar back in between waiting lips. Optimus now was confused. If what Nightblade has said is true, that she only said that, why would Ratchet be upset? Was he jealous? Oh. That would make a lot of sense. But why? Ratchet couldn’t like him like that, could he? Or was Optimus being oblivious to anything Ratchet did toward him to further a relationship? He knew that they’ve been friends for a long time but… oh he was confused…

“Stop thinking so hard. I can hear the wheels in your head,” she commented with a sly grin, gently poking him with a digit. He didn’t physically respond. “What are you thinking about?” Should he say? Well, she was the only one out of everyone on base who’s bonded… but then again, that may not work out of the best. No sense to open old wounds. But, he needed so advice. “Ratchet.” 

She smirked. “I could have guessed him. What about though, is the question?” There wasn’t malice, just a genuine curiosity. He breathed a moment, weighing his options, the pros and cons of saying. He thought it'd be better to say something. “This maybe something sensitive,” he started, eyeing for a response, to which he got a gentle head tilt. “You like him, don’t you.”

He sighed a laugh at the statement. “Is it that obvious?” He eyed her, watching her take the cigar away from her lips again. “Painfully. Quite frankly. I kind of thought you two were, ya know,” she said, not quite finishing her line of thought, only to start making hand gestures. They became obscene when one servo was closed and the other having only one digit out (and while her cig was being held by her pinkie). She didn't finish that either when she felt Optimus’ field flinch against hers. “Okay! I'm kidding. Though I still have to admit, I really thought that you and him were a thing.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“I'm going to say it like this,” she started softly. “When he's around, your field relaxes. And every single time I see either of you look at each other I swear on my spark that there's a kind of longing there.” Optimus allied thus (not-so-new) information to sink in, settle in his head. Longing, yes it was indeed. He knew he may have held that look towards his longtime friend, but could Ratchet feel the same?

“Kid, you're thinking hard again.” She puffed smoke from her mouth, only to put the cig right on back again. “It's not something that can be helped,” he said with a twinge of something that Nightblade had trouble pinpointing.

“Sure it can -- that's coming from an old pessimistic fool. You can talk about it,” she lowered her tone, stepping a little closer. He waited a moment, contemplating what could really happen. Could he ask for help? Would she help? That’s ridiculous, of course she’d help. He let it slip. 

“I must request something of you.”

“Spill it.”

“I need your assistance with asking Ratchet to be…” He waited, watching her purple optics watch him in turn. She didn’t say anything for a moment, neither did he, until she nodded. “Do you really think he could like me?” He did not care for sounding childish but he needed to hope that he really did have a chance. She gave him a wry smile. “Only one way to find out. Talk to him,” she said as she threw down her dying cigar, stomping it to ashes, more than it already was. “Come on, may as well start heading back. Sun’s up and day’s still early.”

“Yes,” he sighed, checking his chronometer. “We may as well.” They walked out, and Optimus started to think again on what he was going to say to Ratchet. And, if need be, brace himself for the fallout.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short and doesn't really do a justice, I feel. I'm getting my inspiration back after reading some MTMTE so I'm going to see if I can pull some of this trash fic out of my head and shove it onto a page lol I hope it is enjoyable

Ratchet faced away from the exiting tunnel, monitoring possible signals for further investigation. His attention was firmly trained, even though the sound of rumbling engines was growing louder as they approached. He did turn his head just enough to see Optimus and that femme coming through. 

Bumblebee and Arcee were talking quietly up and until Optimus went to his bipedal mode. Bumblebee stopped and looked over his shoulder at the Prime, asking, “Where’d you two go?” Ratchet - for some reason - couldn’t help rolling his optics. Optimus quietly hummed and nodded to his scout. “A morning drive. One of the more peaceful times to leave base.” 

Bulkhead walked from the hall into the center of base. He nodded to the Prime and said, “I’ll go and get Miko.” Optimus nodded to him as he made his way to the exit. The odd femme gave him an equally odd look, prompting the question: “Miko?”

“She is amongst the human charges we have,” Optimus explained since Bulkhead was out of earshot to have answered her anyway. She looked away, watching Ratchet tinker with something that was much more important, or so she assumed. “That would make some sense then,” she mumbled. “Pardon?”

“Nothing important. But, humans? They tend to be, oh you could say, naive at best?” Nightblade paused. “Charges. So there are more than just one?”

“How unfortunate for us, yes,” Ratchet grumbled from across the silo, continuing to fiddle with something. He did not want to look at her, something still just set him off. 

“All creatures that are young, organic or mechanical can be naive. As you may recall,” Optimus, his tone heightened ever so slightly, something that allowed Ratchet to almost fondly recall the past. How they would joke and how either of them would laugh, how sad that war came about to deter any sort of happy going. 

“I’m not that old, Optimus. Don’t remind me.” Ratchet looked over his shoulder pauldron, stalling his movement on the device in hand to catch the detail of how her optics shined against the light. The purple still greatly unsettled him, although that was only one thing. 

“While you’re on base you may take up any tasks that require attention.” Ratchet tried to turn his focus back on the device he carried, not sure if he could get it to work again even if he had what he required to repair properly, but that goes without say. 

“Alright. Mind pointing me in a direction?” she asked plainly, quietly, but stood tall. Optimus seemed to shift his weight from ped to ped. “Perhaps you may be of use to Ratchet.” That made the medic grumble. 

“I don’t need help. I need _quiet_ ,” Ratchet continued to with his grumbling, forcing his helm toward something, virtually anything else than Nightblade and Optimus. Them in the same sight did not settle well, and how they composed themselves. It was unusual and it was not something that Ratchet could explain.

“I’m certified, Ratchet. I do know how to be useful.” 

“Obviously you don’t know how to be quiet.”

Nightblade stood there and nodded, not adding to the situation. It was one fight that she did not want to cause. Optimus bristled his field against hers before leaving to do something else.

Ratchet sighed and placed his servos down on the surface just above the keys on the control module. “Nightblade,” he started quietly. “Come here.”

She did roll right next to him, there Ratchet noted the height she had over him. Two helms higher, perhaps. “What did he say?”

“I think it would be best if both of you went for a drive and talk to each other. Just, give a little push in the right direction,” she replied, gently reaching for the screen with both Terran and Cybertronian glyphs in green and yellow, decorated the screen. “Off topic, but why are you using this archaic technology? Was there no ship that could be salvaged from?” Nightblade tapped away at the keys a moment, peering at the system's configuration. 

Funnily enough, Ratchet did not stop her. At first, he stumbled for a reply, something that was certainly off his target for conversation. “It was all that could be afforded at the time. The pod we came in was too destroyed to have been useful and this country's government took it after we landed,” Ratchet supplied, taking back control of the module, searching up a time and place that Nightblade did not expect. 

“The Roswell crash, that was you? I should've considered that,” she paused, optic darting back and forth across the screen, soaking up every detail that she may have forgotten. “Back to the original topic. I think it would be best if you would just tell him, I assure you, you won't be disappointed.” Ratchet, although still a bit hesitant toward the new femme, already knew that fact that he needed to speak with his Prime. _His Prime_ seemed to leave a pleasant taste in his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired. Got my Paycheck. I going to head to bed very soon lol   
> And @Andytransfan  
> here's a quick update! I had a few hours to myself :3 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

There was a slam of a door from the green SUV and out popped a girl with pink dyed ponytails. “Hey, guys!” She yelled to no one in particular. Arcee had also left after Bulkhead to retrieve her charge, those two humans left their respective guardians. 

“Miko,” Jack said after he took his helmet off, “you don’t have to yell every time we get here.”

Miko rolled her eyes and proceeded to stretch her arms in front of her, also popping her knuckles in the process. “It’s not like anyone can hear me from outside. Why are you always such a party pooper?”

Arcee looked at Bulkhead with a shrug while their charges bickered amongst themselves. They knew that this was normal. These two children did tend to rub each other wrong but oddly enough remained friends. Usually, if a mech rubbed another the wrong way, they’d be fought or booted from their present place of being. 

Jack shrugged off her remarks and walked up the balcony, choosing to sit on the side of the sofa. Miko, although after a moment, decided that she’d do the same. But once she was up on the balcony with him, she took up the rest of the available seating. Jack had already taken the remote but was jostled when she flopped down, making him scowl for a moment before turning the TV on. 

It was a random show that was showing sports cars over the last 50 years. Jack sat back, leaning over the edge and falling onto the soft cushions on the couch. Both just sat and listened to what the dude on the TV was saying about the cars’ characteristics. “Oh just look at it…” The dude squealed as the 1967 Impala SS drove passed extremely slow, showing off how fabulous it is. It was, of course, a classic.

Minutes passed, Bumblebee and Rafael came in with a slow and eased fashion. The yellow sporty drove until he was almost to the balconies stairs. A short brown haired boy with red glasses slide out with a practiced ease. The sound of the door closing behind him was cause for Jack to pivot his head. “Hey, Raf.”

“Hey!” The little boy perhaps only 13 greeted while he trotted up the stairs. Miko moved her boots so he could have a spot on the couch with them, and for a moment, there was only the sound of the TV within a suspiciously silent base. 

The three guardians had left the main area to do goodness knows what so it was obvious when Smokescreen had finally left his quarters. A kind of tired, irritated walk that echoed with a thump. Bored optics scanned the room. 

Jack was the one to greet him, in his usual calm way. The mech didn’t respond in kind but rather shrugged him off. It was of no real surprise that he transformed and drove out of base with a hiss to his engines, but what was odd was that he did not say a word. Like a church mouse, although, the mouse would not have left the feeling of slight unease. _He was usually so… energetic..._

Mecha that the children knew had come to the once empty silo, filling the near silent void with the subtle sound of Optimus tapping away at the console while the others conversed. Arcee and Bumblebee did their own thing, quietly talking. Bulkhead came over to join the children who now watched a monster truck rally because Miko stole the remote. 

“Commander Macho Tire Lord Is the best— _the_ best thing to happen to professional monster truck rallies since Chandler had Bigfoot.” Miko didn’t look at anyone, only the smashed chassis of other cars that were nothing more than for show. 

“Miko,” Jack said quietly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from the back of the couch. “I know you like monster trucking and… all that, but what you say makes almost no sense.” 

“Duh, it doesn’t make sense. You’re not in the club like me and Bulkie.” She jabbed her thumb back towards the rest of the silo. Jack follow it and only saw an irritated speedster tread along out from the hallway.

“Hey,” Jack said, the white mecha looked over, only giving a dismissive wave, falling down into his alt. mode, Smokescreen screeched his tires across the concrete. A small plum of smoke swirled up, making the not-so-friendly encounter all the more dramatic. 

“What’s up with him?” Miko asked no one in particular. They three shrugged. Jack began to wonder what crawled under his skin to make him act so—un-Smokescreen like.

They were not left alone long after the encounter. The rest of the mecha on base filtered out from their places of hiding. Optimus was not among them. It wasn’t so odd as it was something that the children had come to find as normal. Well, about as normal as giant alien robots in the small town of Jasper could be. It was early enough still, he may very well be out for a drive. 

Arcee walked over with a servo on her hip and opticed her charge. “How come you three are so quiet?”

Bumblebee popped over and whistled and bleeped about the show since obviously he and Bulkhead and the children tended to watch it on Saturdays when they were off from school. At least it was today. Then whirling sadly when mentioning that they didn’t tell him they were watching it. 

“I thought you went out on patrol with Smokescreen,” Rafael defended. Miko and Jack looked back and forth between the two, still surprised at times that their youngest friend on base is fluent in whatever Bumblebee spoke. At least the scout was able to talk with him and not have to stop and translate everything.

“Smokescreen?” Arcee inquired, “He doesn’t have patrol today. It’s Optimus and Nightblade.”

Miko nearly tipped the whole couch with the energy she suddenly showed. Her eyes sparkled. “Who’s that? Who are they?”

She did not even turn around, quirking an optic ridge at the partial pink haired child. Arcee calmly pointed with the free servo to the opposite end of the silo. “That’s Nightblade.” It took a moment for the children to move enough to be able to see the lumbering frame. 

She stopped immediately at the mention of her name. “What did I do?” Nightblade only proceeded only Arcee turned her helm toward her. 

“Kids wanted to know about you.”

“That makes two… oh no, four. Four of us,” Nightblade half-heartedly chuckled. “Yeah, well, this is me. Nothing special.” Silence for a moment, because she’s awkward. “Hello.”

Miko, with the same sparkle in her eyes, leapt over the couch’s back, introducing Jack and Raphael and of course, herself in a rapid furry. All that Nightblade knew was that staying amongst these children and the rest of the mecha on base, it was going to be an interesting challenge.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to rewrite the first chapter of my old story Sparked Love. I will try to update again with the other chapters I do have. Would you mind telling me how I did? It would mean a whole lot to me! And thank you for reading!


End file.
